


Zinnober

by SugarsweetRomantic



Category: Wentworth (TV)
Genre: Aftercare, Dominance/Submission Undertones, F/F, excerpt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:15:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24592897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SugarsweetRomantic/pseuds/SugarsweetRomantic
Summary: This is an excerpt of a fic that was never published. I thought I'd share it with you nevertheless.
Relationships: Erica Davidson & Bridget Westfall, Erica Davidson/Franky Doyle, Franky Doyle/Bridget Westfall (implied)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 20





	Zinnober

**Author's Note:**

> Content warning: implied abusive acts
> 
> I wrote this 3 years ago.

“Hey Erica? Can you hear me?” Bridget carefully took a few steps towards the trembling woman. When the honey blonde didn't respond, she announced: “I'm going to come towards you now. I'm on your left.” She tip-toed across the room until she was standing in front of the slim form curled up against the fauteuil, and crouched. She took her time to take in the woman's appearance. She was pale and shaking uncontrollably. Her eyes were refusing to focus on anything, as if she was staring at something in the distance. Erica seemed miles away.   
  
“Erica, I think you're in shock. I'm going to wrap something around you to keep you warm, okay?” A soft whimper was all she got in response. At least it was proof Erica had heard her, hopefully. Bridget's eyes scanned the room in search of anything she could drape over the woman's slim frame; a blanket, a sweater, anything. However, the room seemed devoid of anything suitable. Shaking her head, she took off her own scarf and the cardigan she'd hastily grabbed from the back of her couch when she'd gotten the call from Franky, and wrapped both around Erica.   
  
“I'm going to find something better; something warmer, okay? In the meantime, you stay here. You're safe here.” Getting up, she walked around the house, softly calling Franky's name. Suddenly the brunette’s face peeked around the corner of a door.   
  
“How is she?” the domme asked. ‘Domme’ was an interesting way to describe her currently, Bridget thought to herself. A domme would never and should never frighten their sub to the point where they are paralyzed with fear. Ignoring the question, she asked: “Do you have a blanket or something to keep her warm?” Franky blinked, then she replied: “Yeah, of course.” She disappeared into the room, and after some ruckus reappeared with a soft throw in her hands.   
  
“Would this work?”   
  
“Yes.” Bridget snatched the blanket out of Franky's hands and went back to the living room, commanding as she left: “Stay there. She's scared. Of you.”   
  
  
  
As she approached Erica again, she observed that the trembling had gotten worse. Bridget’s medical knowledge wasn't very detailed, nor was it up to date, but the few semesters she had spent in nursing school before she decided she wanted to become a psychologist had taught her enough for situations like these. She could hear her instructor's voice in her mind: ‘In case of shock, trembling is good. Trembling means the body is trying to warm itself up. A completely still body with hypothermia is bad news.’ Bridget wasn’t sure what Erica’s temperature was, but she was much too cool to the touch for her liking. Carefully, she cocooned the woman in the throw. It was big; it was warm. It smelled of Franky, she noticed. Hopefully that would help settle Erica’s mind.   
  
  
  
It seemed like it took hours for the trembling to stop. In reality, rationally, Bridget knew it had been seven minutes and fifty seconds, with thanks to her watch. She watched carefully as Erica seemed to return to planet Earth. Franky had listened to her and so far hadn't dared to show her face outside of the bedroom she had sought her refuge in.   
  
“Oh great, it's you.” The sarcastic, sighed comment pulled Bridget out of her thoughts. Erica was staring at her. The moment Bridget looked back into deep blue eyes, the other woman hid her face in the soft fabric of the blanket. “I can’t believe she called you,” Erica muttered. “Why you?”   
  
“I don't know why me, Erica, but right now I'm here because I wanted to make sure you were okay,” Bridget replied truthfully. She suspected Franky called her because of her profession. Who better to call when you've scared one sub into a state of shock than your other sub who just happens to be a psychologist, right? She doubted Franky knew about her background in nursing. She hoped Franky had called her because she was the first one on the brunette’s mind, because Franky cared for her. It didn’t matter. She was here now, and Erica obviously needed someone to lean on.   
  
“Would you like some tea?” she asked. The body burns through its reserves when it's in an acute stress reaction. Erica could do with some fluids, and the tea would help warm her system up. Erica looked like she was about to protest, but eventually she sighed and nodded.   
  
“Yes.”   
  
  
  
Nodding in acknowledgement, Bridget walked straight towards the kitchen. Within no time, she returned to the living room with two mugs of hot tea, along with milk and sugar.   
  
“I wasn't sure how you take yours,” she explained as she placed one mug in front of Erica.   
  
“Don't you know your way around,” the other woman snidely commented, snatching two sugars from the serving tray, Franky's fucking favorite serving tray, she realized. Choosing to ignore the sneer, Bridget asked: “How are you feeling?”   
  
“How do I know you're not trying to poison me?” Erica asked, her voice dripping with venom. Bridget sighed and set her mug down.   
  
“Listen, Erica, if I wanted to hurt you, I would've let you get hypothermic here. I would've left, instead of rushing over here in the middle of the night to come check you over, fetching you a blanket and going through the trouble of making you tea. You're wearing my clothes underneath that blanket, for fuck’s sake!” She motioned at the scarf and jacket that were still wrapped around Erica’s form. Erica swallowed and cast her eyes to the floor.   
  
“But,” Bridget continued, “you have a choice here. I leave, or I stay until either you or Franky ask me to leave. It's up to you.” She laid her hands on her upper legs with her palms turned skywards, in a show of vulnerability. Erica was silent for a few seconds before she commented: “Your tea is getting cold.” Nodding, Bridget took the mug in her hands and let a sip of the warm liquid soothe the raw feeling in her throat. There was a truce, for now. They both sat in comfortable silence as Erica slowly thawed. Bridget noticed that her eyes were no longer the vacant blue that she had seen on her arrival. A bit of color had even returned to her high cheek bones. Seeing Erica a nearly comatose shell of a person caused her to wonder, was this what she looked like when she came down from that high? And was that the look that Franky craved to see?

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading!


End file.
